


Late Night Wanderings

by nightlight9



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: College Student Stiles, Derek Hale Can Have Nice Things, Diner Owner Derek, Getting Together, M/M, Mentions Hale Family Deaths, diner au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-20 00:55:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11325312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightlight9/pseuds/nightlight9
Summary: Stiles doesn't know how he started spending all of his nights hanging out in a forgotten diner instead of getting a good night's rest. Okay, so maybe he does actually know how he got here, and it might have everything to do with one surly worker with a quiet disposition and a big heart.





	Late Night Wanderings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [d-athanasi](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=d-athanasi).



> Quick Note: I hope you enjoy this. I thought doing a diner AU would be a fun change; I hope you like reading it as much as I liked writing it for you!

Stiles doesn’t know how he got here. One minute he had been staring aimlessly at his computer screen, going crazy trying to figure out a good argument for his essay, and the next he was in his car, driving around town at 12:34 in the morning. All he wanted was to find something to do that would take his mind off of all the work he was avoiding. Ending up at Pop’s, a 24-hour diner Stiles didn’t even know existed, was a complete accident. But it turned out that it was exactly what he was looking for, even though when he first stumbled inside, all he could hope was that it wasn’t the start of a b-rated horror film featuring his death.

Now, most of his nights are spent at the small diner.

“I’m cutting you off.”

Stiles blinks up at the man towering over him, a pout pulling at his lips. Okay, so maybe he does actually know how he got here, and it might have everything to do with one surly worker. 

The first time that Stiles saw Derek, he thought that the older man might be a tragically beautiful serial killer, because even though he was the most attractive man Stiles had ever seen, the frown pulling his lips down suggested violence. Instead he turned out to be the tragically beautiful owner of Pop’s, whose resting face naturally looks violent. And, after that fateful night, he also happens to be Stiles’ favorite unobtainable companion.

Except when he decides it’s his ‘duty to the public’ to cut off Stiles’ caffeine supply.

“That’s not fair,” Stiles whines, tightening his hands around the coffee mug and glaring up at Derek. “I’m a paying customer. You’re supposed to take my money without complaining or questioning my life choices.”

“If you expect that kind of service you should go somewhere else.”

“Derek.” His voice is all whine. “You have to give me more coffee. How else am I going to finish all of this?” He gestures to the counter where several textbooks have been left open.

Derek snorts. “Stiles, you’ve been staring at your books without doing anything for ten minutes.” He grabs Stiles’ discarded pencil (which rolled across the counter and was forgotten) as evidence of his lack of work. “It’s almost 2 o'clock, you haven’t done any work, and you’re cut off. “ Derek reaches over the counter and presses the pencil’s eraser against Stiles’ forehead. “You know, normal people would be thinking about going to bed.”

Stiles bats the pencil away and snorts. “Yeah, well I think we can safely deduce that I am in no way normal. Why else would I be hanging out with you practically every night?”

Surprisingly, Derek doesn’t take the bait. It makes Stiles pout again; he loves the way that they banter and tease each other. But Derek just calmly pries the mug from his fingers and replaces it with a tall glass of water, a smirk teasing his lips. Obediently, though with an eye-roll, Stiles sips at the new drink. In all honesty, he’s not even feeling jittery from all of the coffee. He’s long suspected that Derek swaps his caffeinated coffee with decaf, but he hasn’t been able to prove it. Either way, he’s definitely more than ready to head back to his dorm and sleep for a few hours.

But at the same time, Stiles doesn’t want to leave Derek alone. He knows that he must be used to it; obviously he was alone before Stiles wandered in and kept coming back. But Stiles hates picturing Derek wasting time by himself. The first night they met, Derek had been behind the counter waiting for orders even though no one was there. And he’s never mentioned having anyone to go home to. 

That’s why Stiles makes it a habit to go to the diner practically every night. Most of the time, he only stays an hour or two; he does need a healthy amount of sleep on occasion. But once or twice a week, he’ll keep Derek company well into the early morning. And the thing is, Stiles knows that Derek appreciates it that he comes by, knows that spending his nights by himself all of the time made him lonely. Sure, Derek will grip and complain sometimes, but it’s always with an air of fondness. 

The change that Derek went through since that first night was miraculous. He had been so closed off to everything that Stiles was saying. But then Stiles had made a joke about Lord of the Rings and the banter was on. Now, Stiles considers him one of his closest friends. Derek knows so much about his life, and even though he doesn’t share much about himself, he seems happy that Stiles lets him in.

Stiles hates leaving him alone at the end of the night. He doesn’t want Derek to be lonely again. 

Plus, Stiles never wants to be away from the older man. 

It should be concerning how he’s fallen for a random guy, but really the realization isn’t even shocking. Why wouldn’t he like someone who is obviously beautiful, whose humor is wry and dark and perfect, and who cares about others so much that he takes all the night shifts so that they can sleep, or cuts them off when they’ve had too much caffeine? It isn’t surprising at all.

“You’re probably right though,” Stiles mutters after a few moments of companionable silence. “I should head home.” If he sounds miserable at the prospect of leaving, he really can’t be blamed.

Derek offers a small smile and nods. “Yeah, it’s pretty late. Are you awake enough to drive?”

Stiles scoffs and starts cleaning up his textbooks. “Yeah. I mean, before you stole my mug, I drank at least three cups of coffee. So as long as it wasn’t decaf, I’ll be fine.”

In response, Derek’s smile turns sly and he raises his eyebrows. It’s entirely cocky and mocking, and dammit if Stiles doesn’t love it. Instead of patting at Derek’s face like he really wants to, he just scoffs again, finishes his water, and gets to his feet. 

Like every night, Derek follows him to the door so that he can make sure Stiles gets to his jeep without any problems. It makes Stiles wonder how he ever thought the man might be a serial killer. 

Before he steps outside, he turns back to Derek and smiles. “Alright, buddy. I’m out of here.” He softens his voice, making it more private and intimate, matching the short distance between them. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Derek smiles, just as soft. “I’ll be here.”

\----------

It’s understandable that, when the Sheriff finds out what his son is doing at night, he’s concerned. Not only is he worried about Stiles’ health, but he’s also more than a little concerned about who his son is keeping company. It starts an argument in the middle of the grocery store. But then Stiles calls Derek by his name for the first time, and his dad freezes.

His eyes are a little softer when he asks, “Wait, do you mean Derek Hale?”

Stiles blinks, caught of guard by the change. “I-. Yeah. He owns the diner I go to.”

The Sheriff nods slowly, and his expression turns sad. “Right, Pop’s. How did I forget-.” He nods again, and turns down the aisle. “Okay.”

Stiles chases after him. “What just happened,” he demands. 

His dad shrugs, picking up a bag of chips and putting them in the cart. “I said okay. I’m not worried about it anymore. Just-make sure that you get enough sleep, kid.”

Replacing the chips with a healthier, baked alternative, he asks, “Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

“But, why? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I'm happy you’re not yelling at me anymore, but I don’t really understand why you-.”

His dad cuts him off. “Don’t worry about it.” He sounds downtrodden and his eyes are sad. “Derek’s a good kid. Just know that I’m not worried anymore.”

Stiles tries to press, tries to figure out why his dad sounds so upset, why just mentioning Derek’s name would elicit such a reaction. But his dad won’t say anything else about it, so he finally lets it go. 

One rainy day in March, Stiles finally understands what made his dad sound so sad.

When Stiles pulls up to Pop’s, the sign is dark. Stiles frowns at it as he climbs out of the jeep. “Hey, Derek. You know that your sign is burned-.” As he tries to pull open the door, his body collides with it instead. Moving his gaze from the sign to the door, he frowns and tugs at it again. It doesn’t budge. Looking through the glass, Stiles can see that the kitchen light is on, but the rest of the restaurant is dark. 

Never in all of the time that Stiles has been coming to the diner, has it been closed. His frown deepens as he backs away from the door. Turning to scan the parking lot, Stiles recognizes Derek’s Camaro setting in it’s normal space.

It doesn’t make sense. Why would the diner be closed if Derek is here? And if he isn’t here, why is the Camaro? He’s still trying to fit the pieces together when he hears the familiar chime from the door. Derek is standing there when he turns back, but there’s something off about the way his shoulders are curled down and he won’t maintain eye contact. 

“Hey.” Even his voice sounds different. “The diner is closed. You-. Um. You’re still welcome to come in though. If you want.”

Obviously, that’s what Stiles wants. But he hesitates, asking, “Do you want me too?”

Something in Derek’s eyes shifts and softens. “Yeah. I would like the company tonight, if you’re not too busy.”

“I’m never too busy for you, buddy.” It sounds too honest, but the words make Derek smile softly.

Stiles follows Derek inside. They sit at the counter together, the lights from the kitchen the only things keeping them from the dark. Derek doesn’t say anything after he sits a mug of hot chocolate down for both of them, and Stiles doesn’t know how to bring it up.

Finally, Derek starts talking. “My family died,” he says without preamble, staring into his mug. It takes a few more minutes for him to say anything else. “My mom was a powerful prosecutor, one of the best. She was good at her job, which made more than a few people angry. One of the men that she helped put behind bars on a double life sentence had a daughter who wanted revenge. She got it.” Derek squeezes his eyes closed. “My older sister has always been my best friend. We did everything together. The night they died, one of her friends was having a party that she wanted to go to. Mom told her she wasn’t allowed to go because it was a school night, so we snuck out. The fire started right after we left. There were eleven people in the house that night: my parents, some siblings, my uncle and his family. Everyone died. Laura and I didn’t even know what had happened until after they were gone. One of my younger sisters had followed Laura and I when we snuck out, but got lost on the way to the party. She helped the police find us to tell us the news. Now, we’re all that’s left.”

Stiles closes his eyes at the heartache, listening as Derek rattles off the details with cold detachment. 

“It’s always hard for me when the anniversary comes around. Laura and Cora are in New York. They can’t stand being here. But for some morbid reason, I can’t leave. This is where my family has always been. They’re ingrained in this town, and I can’t leave it behind.” He glances around the diner. “You know, my dad used to run this place. I remember how much he loved it, how he would talk about having one of us take over one day. I just-I wanted to do that for him.”

Stiles doesn’t know what to say. Having lost a parent of his own, he knows how empty condolences can be. So he reaches out and takes Derek’s hand instead. Derek tightens his grip and doesn’t let go. “That’s why I keep this place open at night, even though you’re pretty much the only person who stops by. It was the one thing that my dad insisted on. He wanted to make sure that there was always a place people could go to if they needed company. When he was the owner, a lot of nurses and police officers working night shifts would come by. But I guess it’s kind of an outdated idea. There are places closer to the hospital with cheap food, and most college students are in bed at this hour. Before you, I was always here alone.”

Stiles squeezes his hand. “Hey, I don’t think the idea is outdated. I know I appreciate having a place to go to in the middle of the night. Stumbling upon this place was one of the best things to happen to me, honestly. And I know that your dad would be really proud of you for keeping his idea alive.”

The grip tightens to an uncomfortable level, but Stiles doesn’t pull back. Derek’s eyes are so earnest it makes him ache. “You really think so?”

Stiles smiles. “One hundred percent.”

\----------

A plan forms as soon as Stiles leaves Derek’s side (later than he ever has before). He wants to get people back to Pop’s, allow Derek to see how well he’s keeping his dad’s vision alive. Creating as much foot traffic at the diner as possible will hopefully help Derek see how great he’s doing and how much Pop’s and the Hales still mean to the community.

As soon as he’s slept a few hours, Stiles drives to the hospital to have lunch with his best friend’s mom. He tells her about Derek and explains what he wants, and she smiles in a conspiratorial way and agrees immediately. She remembers going to Pop’s when Derek’s father was running it, as do many of the other nurses, so she promises that getting people to start going there again should be easy. He tells his college friends too, and the officers that work with his father. When his dad finds out what he’s doing, he smiles bright and promises to help in anyway he can.

Still, it takes a few days for anything to change. When it does, Stiles is sitting at his usual place at the counter, arguing with Derek about how expressive his eyebrows are. A stream of cars drive into the parking lot, their headlights lighting up the diner’s windows as they park. 

Derek stops talking immediately and frowns at the sight, his eyebrows pulling down in confusion. “What?”

And Stiles grins. “I think that’s probably the lunch crowd.” Derek looks at him in confusion. He smiles wider.

When the door opens, Melissa walks in with a huge grin. A group of nurses (some of whom Stiles knows are not on shift) trail after her, each one of them looking genuinely happy to be there.

“Hey, sweetie,” Melissa greets. She kisses Stiles cheek and then asks Derek, “Could we have some menus?” 

Wordlessly he passes them over. The door opens again, this time with Stiles’ best friend, Scott leading a group of their friends inside. The people fill the tables and booths, talking amicably and having a good time. 

Stiles looks over at Derek and laughs at his dumbstruck expression. 

“Stiles, I-. What did you do?”

Stiles shrugs, feeling warm. “I just told a few people about this super cool diner I know. Guess the word spread.” He reaches across the counter and pushes at Derek’s chest. “Now, get on out there and make me proud, young man. It looks like you have orders to fill.”

\----------

Within a few nights, the atmosphere of the diner changes. Where Derek had been used to solitude before, now the diner is busy enough that he doesn’t have to spend nights alone. Stiles loves seeing Derek relax into his role, loves seeing him interact with the community. It’s rewarding, knowing that he had a hand in each of Derek’s smiles. 

But me misses their time alone together. Sure they still hang out, but Stiles can’t help missing having Derek to himself.

He’s so used to seeing more cars in the parking lot, that when he shows up and the only other car is Derek’s, he’s actually concerned. The door opens when he tugs on it, so he knows that Pop’s isn’t closed, but there’s no one there. It’s just Derek, leaning against the counter with a small smile. 

“Derek? Where is everyone?”

Crossing the floor, Derek stops in front of Stiles. He's dressed nicer than usual and his eyes are bright. “The diner is closed,” he says in response, his smile widening. “I told everyone yesterday that I wasn’t going to open tonight.”

“But-.” He looks around, noticing how fairy lights have been strung up around the diner, casting the room in a soft glow. 

“Some of the regulars helped me set this all up,” Derek says in response to Stiles’ unasked question, sounding pleased when he calls the customers ‘regulars.’ “I wanted it to look nice in here. For you.”

Stiles is starting to understand what’s happening, and his heart picks up speed. “For me?” His voice cracks, but he can’t bring himself to mind all that much as Derek takes his hands.

His cheeks are red. “I know it’s a little cheesy, seeing as you’re here every night and it’s technically my place of employment, but I wanted to surprise you and this seemed like the best way.” Now the tips of his ears are red. “And Melissa said it was a good idea, so-.” Derek shrugs. Stiles feels a rush of fondness for him. 

Not wanting to get the wrong idea though, Stiles asks, “Is this a thank you for what I did for the diner, or-.” He trails off, feeling himself blush.

Derek laughs, a bright sound in the dark, before squeezing Stiles’ hand. “No, it’s not a thank you, though I am grateful for everything you’ve done for me. Honestly, seeing the effort that you put into bringing people here just because you wanted me to be happy, it made me think that maybe you might have fallen for me the same way that I had for you. It gave me the courage to take a chance.” He shrugs, dropping his gaze to their hands briefly. “I like you a lot, Stiles. And I guess I could go on about how you barreled into my life and made it anything but quiet, and how that was one of the best things to happen to me, but all I really want to say is that I like you. And maybe, if you feel the same, you’ll have dinner with me here tonight, and then let me take you out on a real date.

“You dork.” He says it so affectionately that Derek can’t misunderstand the pet name. “I’ve liked you since that first night, when you growled at me for saying that I preferred the Hobbit movies to the book.” He pulls Derek closer, knocking their shoes together gently. “Honestly, I don’t care where we go. I just like spending time with you.” He shrugs, trying to be nonchalant. “Though I wouldn’t mind being able to make out with you sometimes too.”

The statement makes Derek laugh again, tipping their heads together so that the sound is trapped between them. It feels intimate. It makes Stiles’ buzz in anticipation, until he finally closes the gap between them. It’s soft, warm and gentle, and Stiles can feel it in his toes. Surrounded by the fairy lights, clutching at Derek’s shoulders, Stiles is silently thankful that his late night wandering lead him here, to this place and to this man that means so much to him. Now neither of them will be lonely again.


End file.
